There are those thought to be,
Objects.
Subjected to scrutiny.
Profiled.
Microscoped and compared.
From intelligence to have it.
To color of skin, eyes and hair.
And watched as if visitors.
With their activities closely followed.
Surveillance and monitored everywhere.
Done to oppress, suppress and be left,
As 'things' to compete against.
By others less physically or mentally abused.
And often accused for doing everything.
Just to amuse,
Those with their insecurities...
Refuse to acknowledge.
But continue to use them to excuse.
Yet...
Those considered objects,
With imperfections.
The media defines as defects.
Implemented to remind,
Those who see their image displayed...
As representing perfection on a daily basis.
Can not perceive,
Themselves subjected to scrutiny as well.
Or why it is they must objectify,
Their misdeeds to leave them prioritized.
And perform them to be witnessed.
To identify and be left recognized by all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem